The Day We Met
by SnoWhyte
Summary: Miguel recounts the day he and Tulio met nine years ago.
1. Prologue

It was January of 1519 in southern Spain. Tulio wrapped a tattered blanket around himself, trying his best to keep warm; it was unusually cold this day considering the region of the world he lived in, and he could not afford any winter clothes. Shivering, he grabbed a pair of loaded dice he had just bought from a dealer in the market. Tulio hoped that the dice would finally make him wealthy, and tomorrow, he would put them to the test.

Suddenly, a blond haired man with a beard entered the make-shift shelter. Tulio sighed and began to speak to him.

"Any money today, Miguel?" he asked. Miguel shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. Actually I, well..." Miguel began to look sheepish. "I lost our money."

"_What_?! Miguel, you id-" Tulio stopped himself; he knew how sensitive Miguel got when others called him stupid. He sighed again. "You should have known better. Well, it doesn't matter if you lost all of the money, because tomorrow we'll be five times as rich!"

"What do you mean?" asked Miguel. Tulio pulled out a pair of dice.

"Um... they're just dice, Tulio. We already use dice."

"Ah, but not just an ordinary pair of dice! Observe," Tulio rolled the dice ten times, and it seemed to land on the same number each time.

"Tulio, they're loaded! Don't you think someone will eventually notice?"

Tulio scoffed. "What, these cretins here? Of course not, they don't have the mental capacity to tell the difference between regular dice and loaded dice. Look, all that matters is that we're going to be filthy rich in a matter of days. We can buy an actual house, eat better food, buy some land..."

Miguel sighed and nodded. "Okay, okay. We'll use them." Tulio smirked.

"Now that's more like it!" He put the dice away, much more happy than he typically was. Miguel leaned back, looking thoughtful. Tulio noticed this, somewhat puzzled.

"What are you thinking about, Miguel? Our new lives?"

Miguel chuckled slightly. "Heh, no. I was just reminiscing. You know, it was today that we first met each other nine years ago."

Tulio rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You did this last year, too, and the year before. Do you always have to get nostalgic when it's January 16th?"

"I just like thinking about that day, Tulio. We were a lot more naive then, weren't we?"

"Actually, I'd say you're still the most naive person I've ever met. But... it's kinda charming, really. Your childlike optimism somehow complemented my cynicism... damn, now you've got _me _reminiscing."

Miguel laughed. "I'll never forget that day, Tulio. Remember how it happened?"

"Oh, of course I do, Miguel. It was only nine years ago."

"Nine is one year off from being a decade, Tuli. I wouldn't say it was _only _nine years. Besides, knowing you, I have a hunch that you forgot a lot of the details."

Tulio put a palm on his face. "Oh God, Miguel, please don't tell me you're going to tell me this all over again."

"You guessed right," Miguel said. Tulio groaned, but decided to listen anyway.


	2. Chapter One

It was the year 1510, and I had just turned eighteen the year before, in December. I had been born to a middle class family who dealt in shoemaking, but we fell on hard times when I was six. My father wanted me to become a shoemaker like him. Of course, I was more interested in playing the lute he had bought me before our financial situation. Anyway, as I was saying, I was barely eighteen. I always wanted to buy another lute since the one father had given me was made for children, but I had no money whatsoever. I tried getting a job, but to no avail. Begging didn't help, either. I contemplated stealing, but I could never bring myself to doing that. Just when I thought I'd ran out of solutions, I saw some men playing dice in the plaza. I knew next to nothing about playing dice, but this was my chance to make some cash. I cautiously approached the group. They all gave me a glare. It made me nervous.

"Uh... hello, gentlemen. I-I was wondering if I-I could, um... j-join this game?" I stammered. The oldest man in the group gave me the most horrifying look.

"You know how to play, kid?" he asked. He had a growl to his voice.

"Well, I... y-yes?" I lied. It was obvious to the oldest man that I was lying, but he decided to play along.

"Very well, boy. Place your bets."

I gulped. "Um... seven."

Needless to say, I was wrong. The dice landed on two.

"Pay up, kid. Rules are rules."

I sweated. "Um, yes, I would but... well, I have no money."

The old man's sneer quickly shifted into a glare. "I see. Tell me, do you know what happens to those who don't have any money in this group, boy?"

"N-n-no, s-s-sir," I stammered. He pulled out a dagger from a satchel. I was sweating profusely, now. The old man put the dagger against my ear. Just as he was about to cut it off, the youngest man in the group spoke out.

"I'll pay for him," he said. The old man laughed.

"Are you serious? You're going to give up your money for this runt?"

The young man glared at him with dark blue eyes. "Yeah, I am. Now let him go."

The old man snickered and put away the dagger. The young man paid him and walked off. I was shaking, but got up. I knew I had to thank the man. I ran towards the stranger. He had curly black hair that was somewhat long, but not as long as mine, and slightly tanned skin. I ran in front of him.

"Wait! Please, stop right there," I pleaded. He rolled his eyes.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did. If you hadn't been there, I would've lost my ear. If there's anything I can do to repay you-"

"You can repay me by going away," he growled.

"But I'm in your debt, sir. You practically saved my life."

"I told you, go away. That's all you need to do to repay me."

"There's so much more I can do for you, though..."

He finally gave in. "Fine! The first thing I order you to do is to shut up! At least for now. And after I let you talk again, my second order will be for you to stop calling me 'sir'! Finally, you will only speak when you are spoken to! Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now, you're going to do everything I tell you to do. Oh, and by the way, never play dice again. You'll just cause more hassle."

Of course, that last part never happened.


	3. Chapter Two

Hours passed, and finally, I was given permission to speak. The raven-haired man spoke to me.

"What's your name?"

"It's Miguel, si- mister."

"Miguel Cordero? Son of the shoemaker Pablo Cordero?" he asked. I nodded.

"Your father is a pathetic human being, Miguel. But I pity him, in a way."

"In what way?" I asked.

"Well, if it wasn't obvious, I live in poverty, too. But your father... why, he must be one of the most poor men in the city. It's baffling. He went from being a well-respected middle class man to a starving, beaten, poor dog. And all in a matter of years, too. Also, I didn't give you permission to speak that time, but I'll let it slide. Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you my name. The name's Tulio. Last name is irrelevant." I nodded once more.

"There's something I need you to do, Miguel... clean up my shelter while I earn back my money. And don't break anything." He walked off. That night, Tulio returned. I had cleaned everything up as best as I could. Tulio seemed pleased with my work.

"Not bad, Miguel. I'm impressed. I'll tell you what, you have my permission to speak whenever you want. Just don't talk too much. Oh, and you still can't call me sir."

"Uh, okay," I said. "Well... why don't we get to know each other, then?"

Tulio groaned. "I knew this was going to happen."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't like talking about my past. Besides, I barely even know you."

"I never asked you to tell me your life story, Tulio. I just want to know more about what interests you."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Well, I like to play dice, as you know. I also like going to bars and getting drunk. Eases my mind."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, that's all I'm going to tell you. Got a problem with that?"

"Well, no. But I do have a problem with your attitude. Why do you have to act like a jerk, Tulio?"

"Why? Why? Because I've been living like a rat since I was nine years old! Because everyone in this slum of a city treats me like garbage! And because I have to deal with people like you on a daily basis! My parents have been dead for years, and I had to take care of myself for all that time! At least you have parents! And at least your parents actually had a job, once! My parents never worked a single day in their lives! All they did was beg, borrow and steal. Almost everybody hated them. But you, you had things easy compared to me! You still have your parents, you still have a home!"

"So what, you think that's an excuse for your behavior? Well, let me tell you something; it really isn't. There are still people who care about you, Tulio. There's more to life than just gambling and getting wasted. Don't you see that?"

Tulio sighed. "Okay, so you're right. What I said doesn't excuse me being a jerk. But you don't understand what it feels like to be me. Before... before my parents died, I actually felt genuinely happy. When they were killed, it just... changed me. I'm an entirely different person now, Miguel. Maybe... maybe if they were still alive, I'd be a better person."

"You don't get it. You can still be a better person, everyone can."

Tulio chuckled. "You're such and optimist, you know that?"

"And what's wrong with optimism? I always try to look at the positive side of things. Maybe you should give it a try."

"Yeah, well, I'm a different person than you are. But I guess you're right about me changing. I really should stop acting so... mean."

"I'm glad you're starting to see my side of things, Tulio." Tulio nodded.

"Miguel... thank you."

"I... you're welcome, Tulio." He yawned.

"Well, good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you, too. Good night." Tulio went to bed, and I walked home.


End file.
